


Thousands of Years And I’ve Still Got You

by jumpitorloseit



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Magic Revealed, Reincarnation, Retrospective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 10:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17445053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpitorloseit/pseuds/jumpitorloseit
Summary: Arthur remembered exactly three days after Merlin. But not much changed for him. His own feelings about Merlin didn’t require much examination after remembering. Arthur of the past had loved Gwen, sure, but Arthur of the past had also loved Merlin. Arthur of the past didn’t ever bother examining what those feelings meant, they hardly mattered, what with Morgana’s betrayal, and running a kingdom, and needing an heir. Merlin had been his manservant and his friend and he had loved him. It really wasn’t particularly complicated. Feelings in the present seemed to require much more examination. He wasn’t sure why his modern day self had to be so angsty, or perhaps his past self had just been rather shallow.





	Thousands of Years And I’ve Still Got You

Merlin remembered exactly three days before Arthur did. That particular amount of time seemed rather arbitrary, and it was, especially in the face of lifetimes spent together. They would never learn why they remembered when they did. There did not seem to be any great catalyst for either of them sitting straight up in the dead of night, both glistening with sweat, sorting through dreams that were not dreams but memories. Those memories were vivid and visceral in a way that memories usually were not. They would remember the time Arthur shot that unicorn with a more tangible clarity than they could remember their uni graduation. It was like that entire previous lifetime they had shared had happened just in the hours they had been asleep.

In this lifetime, their relationship had only recently uncomplicated itself after years of pining and confusion and jealousy on both of their parts. They had known each other since primary school, been best friends since they were teenagers, flatmates since uni, and well, something else entirely their whole lives. They had begun sleeping together eight months ago and sorted out their feelings about five. Since then they had started dating, and well, it had been going pretty well. Arthur had been certain Merlin was it for him since he was seventeen and it was a miracle what good a little honest communication had done for the two of them.

Of course, the memories threw a rather large wrench in all of that.

Because again, Merlin remembered three days before Arthur. They were on the second day of Merlin remembering and Arthur not remembering and Arthur was trying not to wake Merlin as he quietly padded into the kitchen, helping himself to a glass of water. Merlin was sleeping on the couch, despite the fact that neither he nor Arthur wanted him there. They both wanted him in their shared bedroom on their shared bed, snuggled comfortably in Arthur’s arms. Of course, Arthur didn’t know that is where Merlin wanted to be. Arthur was deeply hurt and confused by Merlin’s sudden distance.

Arthur could see Merlin laid out on the couch, the window with its half-closed blinds casting a sort of spooky ethereal striped white glow on Merlin’s already pale skin and Arthur was practically aching with the loss of him. Arthur had recently told Merlin he loved him and now Merlin, was telling Arthur he needed some space, and “don’t worry, Arthur, I still love you, I just have some stuff to think about.”

What Arthur did not understand and wouldn’t understand until he himself remembered was that Merlin was rather confused about what exactly the memories meant for him and Arthur. Arthur and Merlin hadn’t been what they were now back then. They had loved each other, sure, well, Merlin had loved Arthur, but it is not like they had ever once talked about feelings. There wasn’t anything physical about their relationship. Merlin was Arthur’s _servant_ . And while they had had a distinctly different and, dare Merlin think it, special relationship compared to other nobility and their staff, the fact remained. Merlin had watched Arthur marry Gwen. Merlin had watched Arthur become one of the greatest men Merlin would ever know, but it hadn’t really amounted to much. The extent to Merlin’s loyalty to his King hadn’t really been revealed until Arthur had laid in his arms dying. (Merlin had held _Arthur as he had died_ , he wasn’t just sorting out what the memories meant for he and Arthur’s relationship, he was grieving and reeling from seeing the man he had dedicated his life to hale and whole right before him. Frankly, it was enough to send Merlin into cardiac arrest.)

Merlin was of two minds. One mind was absolutely certain they had loved each other, been like brothers maybe, comrades certainly. One didn’t go through what they had gone through together and not regard one another highly. He had loved Arthur then, even if it had been different, or maybe it wasn’t different at all, but sleeping with Arthur was the last thing on his mind when the primary goal _was keep the prat alive dammit._ And knowing that, well, it made what was happening between Arthur and him now in the present that much more powerful and special. They had found each other again after thousands of years and now loved each other fiercely, what could be more important.

The other mind, the one winning in the moment was worried about what the memories would mean for Arthur if Arthur ever got them. What if Arthur remembered and remembered Merlin mostly as his manservant. Remembered not loving him, remembered loving Gwen. Merlin was like an idiot brother, not like a lover. The memories felt more real to Merlin than the life he was currently living and while it made Merlin more certain than ever about what Arthur was to him it made him very unsure of what Merlin was to Arthur. Every time he let Arthur pull Merlin to his side and press a kiss to his temple, he felt dishonest and dirty, the _real_ Arthur would never do that. The _real_ Arthur would never look at Merlin with desire or lust. The _real_ Arthur would regret complicating this relationship.

The magic returning was a cool perk. Merlin hadn’t known how off balance he was without it until it was suddenly bursting out of him, leaving him a bit sore from years of not being used. However, hiding it from Arthur again was a signifcantly painful downside. Of course, Arthur didn’t have the power to have Merlin executed if he found out this time around, but it could still scare him off, or worse trigger the memories in Arthur and remind Arthur that he didn’t love Merlin.

But Arthur didn’t understand any of that yet. Arthur wouldn’t understand for three days after Merlin did and 24 hours after staring at a sleeping Merlin on the couch and realizing like a knife to the gut that Merlin was breaking his heart. Except Arthur remembering didn’t fix everything immediately. Not for the reasons, Merlin feared. Their hard won lessons of good communication were utterly abandoned.

His own feelings about Merlin didn’t require much examination after remembering. Arthur of the past had loved Gwen, sure, but Arthur of the past had also loved Merlin. Arthur of the past didn’t ever bother examining what those feelings meant, they hardly mattered, what with Morgana’s betrayal, and running a kingdom, and needing an heir. Merlin had been his manservant and his friend and he had loved him. It really wasn’t particularly complicated. Feelings in the present seemed to be much more complicated. He wasn’t sure why his modern day self had to be so angsty, or perhaps his past self had just been rather shallow.

Unfortunately, Arthur realized correctly that the reason Merlin had pulled away was because he remembered too. However, he incorrectly interpreted that to mean Merlin was pulling away because the memories reminded him he didn’t love Arthur.

And frankly, why would he? Arthur hadn’t treated him particularly well in their previous life. Hell, Merlin had kept a rather enormous secret from Arthur for most of their time together because he didn’t trust Arthur not to have him killed and with good reason! Arthur of that life didn’t deserve a Merlin in any life.

It would be a week after Arthur remembered that Merlin would accidentally catch Arthur’s favorite mug from crashing to the ground with his magic right in front of Arthur that they were forced to confront the fact that they were the reincarnated King Arthur and his wizard, Merlin.

Merlin, frozen, waited with bated breath for Arthur to say, rather forlornly, because dear god, Merlin had magic in this life too and he still didn’t trust Arthur and Arthur couldn’t even have him killed this time round, and this made Arthur sad because Arthur didn’t understand yet, “oh, Merlin, stop panicking, I remember.”

“For how long?” Merlin asked, his voice was steady and careful and he magicked the mug into Arthur’s outstretched hands and Merlin found it so strange to be doing magic like this in front of Arthur, this careless pointless magic.

“A week,” Arthur said and Arthur tried not to cry at how beautiful Merlin looked with his eyes flashing gold and how could he have ever thought this was evil?

“You didn’t say,” and Merlin suddenly like needing air, needed to know if Arthur loved him, if everything was changed and if he didn’t, did it matter? Merlin would be loyal to Arthur even if they never touched again.

“Neither did you,” Arthur retorted and Arthur hated this, this sharing but not sharing and wasn’t it easier between them when they had learned to communicate and where had that gone?

Merlin swallowed at that, then steeled himself, “I wasn’t sure if… things were different then.”

“Oh.”  
  
Merlin didn’t miss the way Arthur deflated, the way he broke eye contact and put his mug down and made to go and Merlin didn’t dare hope, “wait, Arthur, I just meant… we weren’t, not that I--”

Arthur paused and he didn’t dare hope and said, “I didn’t treat you very well.”

Merlin laughed, “you treated me as a friend,” he reached out then, and realized he hadn’t reached out to Arthur in a week and three days and it felt nice to have Arthur reach back and grasp his fingers and who was he kidding? He couldn’t go another lifetime without his touch.

“It just makes things make all the more sense for me,” Arthur said finally, because he loved Merlin and damn it all wouldn’t it be good if things were the same for Merlin, and they could live honestly with this truth between them, “thousands of years and here we are.”

Merlin was crying and fell into Arthur’s chest, “me too, Arthur, I was scared you would remember you didn’t love me and I,” he paused because this perhaps was a different conversation for another time, another story to share, “I watched you die.”

“I love you in every lifetime, Merlin,” Arthur whispered and felt a mix of pain for his partner and immense relief that things weren’t the kind of different he thought they would be when he remembered, but instead a better different because wasn’t it incredible that after all this time it was still Arthur and Merlin?

But Arthur didn’t understand that yet, as he looked at Merlin asleep on the couch. He wouldn’t understand for awhile. And he ached then, because was it possible to love Merlin any more than he did? But of course, he could love Merlin more than he did then, he could love Merlin lifetimes and lifetimes, but he didn’t know that yet.


End file.
